


I am violence as the rain falls

by darkersky



Series: I am violence [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-29
Updated: 2013-06-01
Packaged: 2017-12-13 08:43:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/822316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkersky/pseuds/darkersky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They have never really talked about anything during the whole time Emma has been aware of the fact that yes, fairytales are real and much more convoluted than anything even the Grimm brothers could come up with.</p>
<p>Which, when she really thinks of it, might very well be one of the reasons they are here now.</p>
<p>(Swan Queen. Post S2 finale.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Swan Queen on a ship. A slightly angsty version. (Btw, I don't own OUAT. In case you were wondering.)

 

_And you know heroes aren't meant to survive_

_So much harder to love when alive_

_Walk with the devil in your head_

_You would think you were better off dead_

(Mika – _Heroes_ )

 

 

***

  

"No, Emma, I'm not hovering, I'm _worried_."

"And what do you think I am?" Because, seriously, what does Mar- _her mom_ expect?

"I know, I know. You worry about Henry. We all do. But you do have to sleep because you will need all the strength you have once we get to Neverland."

"I _know._ But I can't just... I can't just fall asleep like it's no big deal, okay?"

"Emma, honey, I understand..."

"Do you? Do you really?"

"Yes! I do! We will find Henry."

Emma wishes she could believe the words, but to her they just sound a whole lot like, _"I'm your mother so I'm going to say whatever you need to hear."_ And she gets it, the way her mom's looking at her like she is someone who needs reassurance, someone who needs to have all this hope and shit.

But she has never believed in hope for hope's sake. So she sighs, closes her eyes and leans against the railing on the deck.

She can hear the small sigh escape from her mom's lips, like Emma is the one who is doing something wrong, like she is the one who needs protection.

"Good night, Emma. Try to sleep a little. Please."

Then her mom's gone. She's off to sleep, off to whisper to her dad something about their daughter being irresponsible, and she can just imagine how he will put a soothing hand on her mom's arm, because he is worried, too. They are worried about their daughter when they really, _really_ should focus on only being worried about their grandson.

 

***

 

She knows there is one person on the ship who gets it more than anyone but... 

... it's too much.

They saved her. They saved her and lost him.

And even if it was the right thing to do (for so many reasons... oh god) it still feels like they made a choice.

A choice that just might have been the wrong one.

So Emma stares at the island in the distance and she wonders.

How is there any way any of this can end well? 

She stares at the island in the distance and around her the night grows darker, descending into inky blackness, stars dotting the sky, and then, eventually, come the seagulls and the pale blue light in the horizon. Just like they had come the night before.

And she is so tired. But it's a new day and they are a little closer to Neverland so there is no way she can fall asleep now.

  

***

 

Days are easier. Days mean at least some action, however meaningless it might be. They keep making plans, coming up with strategies, figuring out ways to actually access the island which apparently doesn't like adults much. 

They also do things that seem ridiculously mundane like eating and fishing and learning how to sail a ship.

Emma's parents are always kind of there, smiling encouragingly, but there's a whole lot of sadness in their eyes as well.

Gold is there, staring at the sea, a curious expression on his face. It's sorrow and regret and determination and so many things. He doesn't talk much.

Hook is there and no one really knows why he is suddenly being seemingly helpful and has only tried to punch Gold once. But he is a pirate and a pirate's loyalty is not something any of them have much faith in.

And then there is Regina. There are times when Emma catches her staring at her and what the hell is that expression even, but they have steered clear of each other, as if by mutual agreement. Regina and Mary Margaret talk sometimes, and it is extremely weird witnessing the aura of familiarity that surrounds them when they do. Because they have lived under the same roof before and now, multiple murder attempts and conspiracies later, they seem to have reverted back to a tentative trust.

Because they are family. All of them.

And Emma just _can't_.

  

***

  

"Care to join me for a drink, love?" Hook's waving a bottle of something in his hand. 

Emma just looks at him in a way that she hopes conveys _hell no_ in a way that leaves no room for misunderstanding.

"I'm not trying to get you drunk, Swan. Believe me, I can have my way with the ladies without them being inebriated." He has the audacity to actually wink at her.

"Save it, Hook." Because it's the third night and, other than the three or four hours she spent in the twilight zone between asleep and just so fucking tired under the afternoon sun, she hasn't slept in what feels like years. Rowdy pirates are not very high on her list of things she has patience for right now.

"What? I thought we were friends?" Hook says with feigned hurt.

"Your idea of friendship is pretty strange."

"And you know this because you have so much friendship experience?"

Emma doesn't say anything, can't be bothered to use her energy to come up with a snide comment.

"You look tired as hell. I merely thought a nightcap couldn't hurt." Hook looks almost serious but he's Hook so there's really no telling.

The idea of sleep feels distant but the exhaustion is so very real. It's gnawing on every single one of Emma's muscles and bones. She feels like her body might just spontaneously combust at any moment. 

"Fine," she says and snatches the bottle from Hook.

It's rum. Of course it is rum. Because this is the Jolly fucking Roger and the lewd dude with guyliner is a fucking pirate.

"Got any Coke?" Emma asks. 

"What?" Hook looks confused.

"Never mind."

And she's on her way out of the galley, before Hook can even react to her simply taking the bottle with her.

"Wait! Swan! Where are you going?"

"I'm having a drink. By myself."

  

***

  

There is usually some clarity to be found in hard liqueurs.

The stuff is disgusting and it burns her throat but she takes a couple of swigs straight from the bottle.

It's hard – not being able to do anything except stare at the dark waters and the island that's growing bigger in the horizon each day. The island that's apparently a pretty fucked up place (she has been trying to concentrate to her best ability when the others have talked about Neverland and her head is full of images of _shadows_ and _scared little boys_ and fucking _mermaids_ who are apparently nothing like Disney's Ariel) and that's the place where her son is and the thought of never seeing him again is... It's worse than anything she has ever felt. 

What makes it even harder is not being able to even talk about it to anyone. Her parents are too afraid of her losing the hope she doesn't even really have and she doesn't want them to know how uncertain she feels, how totally meek and hopeless and stupid and powerless she feels when she thinks of the things to come. She can't talk to them because every time she voices any of these thoughts to them her mom and dad look at her with way too intensive despair and protectiveness. And since she can't talk to her parents, that leaves only people with whom she has a history of mutual distrust, betrayal and hatred and those are not the ideal foundation for a good heart-to-heart.

Just like they shouldn't be an ideal foundation for saving Storybrooke together. With magic. Like... intensive, mind-blowing, stopping the end of the world kind of magic. Magic strong enough to... No. She can't think about that now.

And yet... 

But no. She can't face Regina. Not after all these thoughts of _We should have let her die_ and _Why are you really doing this_ and _We did it_ and _She should_ _have been_ _the one_ _we lost that day_.

 

***

  

A few mouthfuls of rum and a lot of staring at the waves later she feels slightly less miserable. The alcohol dulls the aching in her heart a little and she feels some of her anxiety take another form.

She _knows_ that she and Regina should have a talk. Mostly about the situation at hand (because _Henry_!) but there are other things as well, other _issues_ that need to be resolved if they want to be able to work together to save him. Like he wanted. He wanted them to work together. No, he _wants_ them to work together, because Emma can't allow herself to think of Henry in past tense.

But.

They never really talk.

In fact, they have never really talked about anything during the whole time Emma has been aware of the fact that yes, fairytales are real and much more convoluted than anything even the Grimm brothers could come up with.

Which, when she really thinks of it, might very well be one of the reasons they are here now. 

Not talking hasn't exactly worked out that well.

 

***

 

When she knocks on the door of Regina's cabin, her legs feel heavy as lead and not just because she is exhausted and a little drunk but mostly because this is the last thing she wants to do. But maybe she is just exhausted and drunk enough to actually go through with it.

There is no answer so she waits a few moments before tentatively nudging the door.

It opens slightly.

"Regina?" she whispers.

"Snow?" Regina's voice is slightly hoarse. It's the voice of someone who has either been quiet for too long or crying very recently.

"No, it's me."

"Emma?" And suddenly Regina is at the door, looking disheveled, dark circles under her eyes (and Emma _has_ noticed those before), and she looks extremely small in the weird and oddly stereotypical earth tone rags that seem to be the only spare clothing option on a pirate ship.

"Yeah..." is all Emma can manage. 

"I see you have become acquainted with a pirate's lifestyle," Regina says looking pointedly at the bottle of rum Emma's holding by its neck. Her voice only trembles a little and there is a ghost of her past sarcasm there but it's too little and too much and...

... and it makes Emma smile a little. Just the tiniest upward tug at the corner of her mouth, for the first time in four days. 

And she knows that this is why she has finally managed to do the right thing. So she says, "I... We need to talk."

  

***

 

"You should have let me die." The expression on Regina's face almost makes Emma want to scream but who is she to scream when she has had the exact same thought.

... which, in itself, makes her want to scream all over again because why the hell does everything have to be so fucking complicated. And finally, she manages to voice a non-answer, because even if she doesn't scream she at least says _something_ , "But I didn't."

"Why?"

It's the question she has been afraid of approaching. Hell, she can't even muster the courage to allow herself to acknowledge the most obvious answer because it doesn't make any sense and she is not used to feeling irrational things for people.

Or she wasn't used to it. In the past. Before Henry.

But it isn't the same thing. It's... not the same thing.

"I don't know," she finally says.

Regina snorts a little and it reminds Emma of an easier time, a time before dragons and giants and fucking mermaids who are not at all like Ariel. "That sort of idiotic goodness seems to run in your family."

"I'm not a good person."

"Said the Savior to the Evil Queen." Regina's tone is kind of self-deprecating but there is a surprising gentleness there and...

Emma doesn't deal well with gentleness. Gentleness tugs at a knot so deep in her chest that it has become an integral part of her and the thought of the knot unraveling is terrifying. But now is not the time to be afraid of her own issues – not now when there's a scared little boy on an island of shadows and evil mermaids and he needs their help. 

The universe doesn't operate on a level of good and evil. That is what she wants to say to Regina. What comes out of her mouth, instead, is, "I thought you hated me."

"Oh."

"And I thought I hated you."

"That much was clear to me."

"I meant what I said. I'm not a good person. I've done so many things I regret. I have..."

"I almost killed you and your entire family," Regina says, sharply, before Emma can finish her sentence.

"I know. But..."

"No, there is no but. _I_ did that. No one else."

"I, _I know_. I mean, rationally, yeah, I get it. But I can't help feeling that everything started going to hell when I accused you of Archie's murder."

"What's a little false murder accusation when I have actually done every possible horrible deed in the past?" Regina's voice is too matter-of-fact, too stating-the-obvious.

"You... You trusted me."

Regina looks down, expression closed.

"You trusted me to clear you of the charges and I broke that trust."

"I don't _trust_." 

"And still you did."

Regina doesn't say anything, doesn't look at Emma.

"I'm sorry," Emma says. Because she has to. For both of their sakes she has to. For _Henry's_ sake she has to.

Regina looks up from behind the knees she has drawn to her chest and her dark eyes shine with so many emotions that it's almost impossible to look into them. She is sitting on her bunk while Emma is sitting on the wooden floor, slumped against the wall. Regina opens her mouth slightly but nothing comes out.

"Please don't say I don't have to apologize. Because I really do. For my own selfish reasons." The same selfish reasons that... Yeah. _Quite passionate, Swan_.

At that a ghost of a smile flickers on Regina's face. "At least you are honest." 

"Don't you think it's time for us to try that?" 

"Perhaps."

"I can't sleep." It's a non sequitur and it isn't.

"I know."

"You can't sleep either."

"No."

"Do you think we will get him back?"

"I have no idea." Regina sighs, her eyes unfocused, gazing at the wall, and she, too, is probably imagining the shadows and the mermaids and Henry.

"I want to kill Greg and Tamara." 

"So do I."

"Good."

And there it is again – the tiniest smile on both of their faces. It's a grim smile because these are grim circumstances but it is there. And Emma is exhausted and a little drunk so she can't help adding, "I wanted them dead even before they took Henry."

"Oh." Regina's expression is undecipherable."Because of... Henry's father?"

"Yes. Because of Neal. But also because they tortured you."

"Oh," Regina says again. "The torture... It wasn't completely undeserved."

"Nobody deserves torture."

"Not even... evil people?"

"You are not evil." Emma hopes her words carry enough conviction because it feels important that Regina knows this.

"What makes you so certain?"

"Evil is not capable of sacrifice. And evil is definitely not capable of love. And you love Henry."

Regina doesn't say anything. She just looks at Emma.

She looks at Emma with such desperation that she hears herself say all these things she hasn't allowed herself to think. "Gold told me magic is about emotions."

Regina keeps quiet. There is something almost fearful in her impossibly brown eyes.

"Does any of this make sense to you?" Emma asks after a few moments of silence even though she is terrified of the answer.

"Yes." Regina's voice is not much more than a whisper.

"How?"

"I, I haven't hated you in a long time." Which is no explanation because it still doesn't mean that...

"But that doesn't mean you..."

"Yes, yes it does." Regina's eyes are closed, like _she_ is the one terrified of Emma's reaction.

_Oh._ Emma has no idea what to say. But they have kind of agreed on honesty, so... "I don't know what to say."

"I know." Regina's eyes are still closed and she looks... a little wounded.

"I mean. I'm not good at talking about... _emotions_ and stuff. But you know what? It was the right decision. Saving you, I mean. That's why I did it."

"I suppose the Savior would see it that way..."

"No. Listen, no, it wasn't the Savior. Because I've never been that. I mean, I haven't ever, like, _actually_ been that. It was the right decision for _me._ "

"Oh."

"Yeah."

And when Regina looks at her, all she can do is try to smile, because how on earth do you tell someone you should hate that you just need them so fucking much. You need them so much that the thought of losing them feels almost like having to breathe underwater. Impossible.


	2. Chapter 2

_I'm crying_

_Remembering the days_

_Crying sweet tears of joy_

_Remembering the days_

_The games that we played_

 

_Now we know_

_This ain't no fairytale_

 

(Kula Shaker – _Peter Pan RIP_ )

 

***

  

She is in a forest. It's hot and humid and the branches of the trees look like dead snakes against the dark sky.

Someone is whispering in the shadows.

Suddenly she can see a faceless human-shaped shadow among the trees and as it comes closer she feels a chilliness in the air.

The coldness creeps into her body and she can't move and suddenly she feels absolutely nothing.

The shadow is gone and she is alone and...

  

***

  

_Thump._ What the fuck. Emma's shoulder and hip hurt and when she opens her eyes she can see the floor and the bottom of a bunk. She is tangled in a ratty blanket.

How.

What.

She hears herself groan.

She has fallen from the bunk. The bunk she has apparently slept in.

What the hell.

How the hell.

A bottle of rum on the floor.

_Oh._

Yeah. The talk. About some pretty deep shit. Feelings and stuff. And Regina...

And she is pretty sure she was on the floor when she fell asleep. But you can't fall to the floor from... the floor. And she definitely fell.

There is no one else in the cabin.

What the hell?

 

***

  

"Good morning, Emma," Emma's mom says when Emma, holding a cup of tea (a cup and not a mug because pirates are apparently pretty fancy when it comes to stuff like that), reaches the deck.

"Morning," Emma mumbles, still pretty damn confused. Though she has to admit her brain feels slightly less sleep-deprived and she actually notices things like the fact that the island in the horizon is much closer than it had been before her nightly rendezvous with the rum. After a few hours of proper sleep everything just... feels the tiniest bit lighter even though the shadowy figure she saw in her dream reminds her of the shadows on the island and Henry and mermaids and...

"Did you sleep?"

"Actually... Yeah, a little. I had some help from Hook..."

Her mom pales a little, so Emma doesn't finish the sentence with, _"...and Regina."_ Because she is not sure what her mother's dirty mind would make of that.

Emma rolls her eyes. "Not... the kind of help you are clearly thinking about."

Her mom blushes but looks relieved. "I wasn't thinking..."

"Yes, you were."

"No, I just... You weren't in our cabin so I figured, if you slept, you slept... elsewhere."

"Yeah, but Hook? Seriously?" Emma shudders at the thought. Besides... "Do you really think I would wanna share a cabin with you and David? I think that one time Henry and I walked in on..."

"... in on what?" a low, stern voice says from behind Emma.

Emma jumps a little, the tea sloshing in the cup. "Heeeeey, Regina," she says, turning around.

Regina looks from Mary Margaret to Emma and back, an eyebrow cocked. (And it's extremely bizarre because _hey you, we kinda_ _talked about some pretty deep shit_ _last night_ _and that's not at all weird now_.)

Mary Margaret blushes again.

"Just what kind of horrors did you subject my son to under your care?" Regina asks.

"The kind I, like, really don't want to think about. Because they are my parents and yeah, I was probably a lot more traumatized than Henry."

Regina looks horrified. 

"O- _kay_ , can we please talk about something else?" Mary Margaret says.

"Oh god, yes, please," Emma says. And when no one seems to have anything to say, and _god this is awkward_ , and she really, _really_ needs to get the image of her parents in bed together out of her head, she blurts out the first thing that comes to her mind, "I had a pretty weird dream."

Which, apparently, is the exact wrong thing to say because her mom and Regina share a look. A look that clearly says that they know or at least suspect something Emma doesn't.

"What?" Emma asks.

"This dream... Wh- what kind of a dream was it?" Mary Margaret's voice is a little shaky and she looks like someone who is trying really hard to appear nonchalant.

"I don't know... I was in a really creepy forest and yeah, you guys talk about shadows and stuff all the time so I guess that's why there was one in the forest and... well, yeah, that's it, pretty much."

"That... doesn't sound too bad," Mary Margaret says.

"I never said it was bad. It was just weird."

"Good, good. Hey, let's... let's go find the others. See if they have any new theories on... anything." Mary Margaret looks determined.

"Okay," Emma says, totally confused. She tries to catch Regina's eye but Regina is looking at everything but her.

 

***

  

An excruciatingly useless group discussion ( _"_ _But t_ _here_ must _be a reason you can go to Neverland_ _._ _" "Aye,_ _there must be,_ _but for the hundre_ _d_ _th time, I haven't got the foggiest what it is."_ _"You are lying." "Gold! Strangling him doesn't help!" "I. don't. care!"_ ), some heavy wave action ( _"The mermaids have noticed us."_ ), and Gold attempting to strangle Hook with his cane one more time later, Emma finally manages to corner Mary Margaret.

"What are you hiding from me?"

"I'm... I'm not hiding anything from you."

"That _look_. You and Regina. When I mentioned my dream."

"I don't know what you mean."

" _Mary Margaret_."

"Oh, Emma, it was so nice when you called me _mom_ for the first time."

"You are dodging my question."

"I... I think I will go find David. See if he needs help with dinner."

Emma is furious. Having actual parents is the worst.

(It isn't, though. It's just... new. And scary. And frustrating as hell.)

  

***

 

Cornering Regina doesn't actually... require any cornering. Because Regina is just there, leaning against the railing, looking all windblown, staring at the setting sun.

So Emma goes to stand next to her and tries to sound casual. "You don't like my mother, right?"

"What are you trying to say, Miss Swan?" Regina glances at her. 

So she's back to being Miss Swan now. It's oddly comforting, because _hey,_ _we talked_ _about feelings and stuff_ and _not at all weird_. This is familiar and easy. Or at least easy-ish because Emma is pretty sure things can never be plain easy with Regina.

"I... I saw the way you two looked at each other when I mentioned the, umm, dream I had. And she refused to tell me what it was about."

"Are you really using my hatred of your mother as a means of manipulation?"

"I might be."

"How completely un-Savior-like behavior."

"But at least I'm being honest?" It's a little too close to  _hey, we talked about feelings and stuff_ for Emma's comfort but... 

"And now you are using my own words as a means of manipulation." And yes, Emma is pretty sure there is the slightest notion of whatever is Regina's equivalent of _not at all weird now_ in Regina's eyes.

"I just... It was something, wasn't it?"

Regina sighs and closes her eyes. "Yes. But I don't want to tell you."

"Why?" Because... what the hell?

"Because I don't want you to blame yourself for anything."

"What... What did I do?"

"You did nothing wrong. Well, nothing that is relevant here."

"I _think_ I need a little more than that. Because that? That's not even close to an explanation."

"The island. Neverland. We are getting closer to it."

"What do you mean?"

Regina doesn't say anything. She looks conflicted.

"Please. Tell me."

"Well, the island... It's possible that it has a certain effect on certain people. People such as... you. And Henry." Regina's voice is very soft when she says Henry's name.

"Wait. Are you saying..."

"Yes."

"Wait. What exactly are you saying?" Because Emma can hear the sound of blood whooshing in her ears and she definitely doesn't want to think that... _I don't want you to blame yourself for anything._

"People whose parents..." 

Emma closes her eyes, doesn't want to hear the words, and definitely doesn't want to hear the answer to the question she has to ask, "Do you... Do you think that could have something to do with why they took Henry?"

"I have no idea."

Emma lets go of the railing. Turns around. Walks away, everything drowning in the sound of her own heartbeat.

"Where are you going?"

"I... I need to think."

Because she really does.

 

***

  

_This is my fault_.

Of course it's her first thought.

It's also her second and third and fifteenth thought.

And then, for a fleeting moment, she blames her mom and Regina for not talking to her about this sooner because apparently they have had this thought for a while (and she has seen them deep in discussion and Regina's weird looks and... everything). But then she has to acknowledge that she has actively refused to discuss anything with her mom and avoided Regina like the plague and she has also been so fucking tired that she hasn't really been thinking much at all about anything except for _Henry, Henry, Henry, mermaids, shadows, Henry._

So. Really. _This is my fault_.

Because if she hadn't given up Henry... Then, maybe, none of this, any of this, would have happened. And suddenly she can imagine stealing baby clothes and feeding a toddler curly fries and spaghetti and, a few years later, sending him to school in holey sneakers...

... and yeah, it would have been less than ideal. And that's an understatement if anything is. But at least neither she nor Henry would then know that mermaids are evil and not at all like Ariel. Hell, Henry's name wouldn't even be Henry but something... a little rough and totally real world like Cody or Jayden or Kyson or Bentley or fucking _Dirk_.

Yeah, he would be Cody the prison baby and _definitely_ not named after a fairytale Queen's father.

Except that even if she hadn't given up Henry, Emma would still be Snow White and Prince Charming's daughter and Henry would still be their grandson. And maybe... Maybe somehow, on her 28th birthday, she still would have ended up in Storybrooke, Maine, because that seems to be the way this crazy world works. Because e _verything that happens happens by design, and there's nothing we can do about it._ Neal had said it.

Before being sucked into a portal. _God_. It's weird to miss him even after... everything.

_Wait._

Neal had been to Neverland.

Neal who had been abandoned by Gold.

And suddenly there's a flicker of an idea. It's vague but it's there, at the edges of her consciousness. Because who else does she know who has actually visited the island?

Hook, obviously. And she tries to remember what it was that the pirate had told her when they were climbing the big-ass beanstalk together. Something about orphans. But no, Hook hadn't said he was an orphan, just that he had spent time with orphans.

But when had Hook ever told the truth and nothing but the truth?

"Emma, I brought you dinner. You never came down to eat." Her mother's voice startles her and she definitely doesn't have time for eating now. "Emma, where are you going?"

"I'll eat later. But first I need to see a pirate about a thing."

  

***

 

Hook is at the helm of the ship, humming to himself.

"Hook."

"Swan."

"Did your parents leave you when you were a kid?"

"Ooh. How lovely of you to be so intrigued by my past. Are you reconsidering my offer of friendship?"

"Believe whatever you want. Just answer my question."

"I choose to believe that you have finally realized your buried feelings for me. And I am very flattered."

" _Hook_."

"Yes, of course. You and the Queen. But in the event that one bad guy is not enough for you some day..."

"Shut up and answer my question."

"Harsh, so harsh. Yes, my father left me when I was a boy."

"That's it."

"That's what?"

But Emma doesn't have time to explain.

She needs to talk to Regina.

 

***

  

Regina is in her cabin, sitting on the bunk like she was the night before. She looks up when Emma comes in without knocking. 

Emma feels almost breathless when she says, "I... I think I may have an idea on how we can get to Henry."

"And what did the others think of whatever inane plan it is you are hatching?"

And... that's definitely not the question Regina should be asking. Confused, Emma asks, "What do you mean?"

"Well, I assume you have already discussed your idea with your parents and Rumplestiltskin."

It stings. It stings a lot. "No. I haven't."

"Oh," is all Regina says and Emma is getting a little irritated. Because why can't things ever be just plain easy with Regina?

So Emma takes a deep breath and says what needs to be said, "Listen. Regina. You have to understand one thing. This is _our_ mission more than anyone else's. We care about Henry's safety more than anyone else on this ship does."

"I'm sure his grandparents would disagree."

"They would. At least... my parents would. But Henry is _our_ son."

"But..."

"No." And just to give the _no_ a little more force, Emma moves to sit on the bunk as well and extends her hand to lift Regina's chin just so that she can gently force Regina to look her in the eye.

And it's extremely weird and not at all not-intimate but desperate times call for desperate measures and even though Emma feels the knot in her chest make itself known like it always does in situations like this, she forces herself to hold Regina's gaze until Regina gives just the tiniest nod. 

Emma lets her hand fall and puts a little distance between them. Because it's extremely hard to think coherently when that close to someone you, like, _really_ want to be close to for selfish reasons and now is definitely not the time for selfishness.

"I... I was thinking," she begins. "I mean, I don't even have a plan yet. Just something that occurred to me."

"Go on."

"Everyone keeps saying that most adults can't get to Neverland."

"Yes."

"Hook can."

"Yes. But I'm sure you agree with me that he is not someone we can trust to get Henry to safety all by himself."

"Oh yeah, I know. But what if... What if the fact that I might be affected by the island means that I am actually allowed to enter Neverland?"

Regina just looks at her, a little skeptical.

"I mean, think about it. Hook's father left him. My parents... Well, you know. Neal's father abandoned him. And now they have Henry." 

"What's Henry's father got to do with anything?"

"He's been to Neverland. Which... I guess no one ever told you. Because of the whole... us not talking to each other thing."

"I suppose I suspected as much. He didn't exactly look several hundred years old."

"Yeah..." Because, _okay, disturbing_. " _Anyway_ , there's a common thread here, don't you think?"

"There might be." Regina doesn't exactly look convinced but she's not totally skeptical either.

"What if one of the reasons Henry was taken really was because he is like me? Because I gave him up?"

"I told you you shouldn't blame yourself. At least not for that."

"I... I know. And I don't, not really. I mean, I'm glad he's not Cody the prison baby."

"Who?" 

"That's just... That's who I think he would be if I had kept him. With the genes he has and my lack of parenting skills, he might have grown into an eleven-year-old with a juvenile record and a punk-ass name."

"Well, I have my own selfish reasons for complimenting you on making the right decision."

"Yeah. I guess you do." Emma can't help smiling a little.

"However... nurture doesn't completely erase nature." Regina's voice is soft.

"I know. Henry is still way too fond of junk food and way too into sneaking out of his window at night."

"That's not what I meant. He is also obsessed with saving everyone and being the hero just for the sake of doing the right thing." Regina is quiet for a few moments before she adds, "And he has your smile."

_Oh_. Because moments like this are the ones Emma has no way of dealing with.

And maybe Regina knows that because she adds, as if as an afterthought, "But yes, he can be rather obnoxious at times."

Emma chuckles a little because it's an easy way to hide the fact that she feels a little like crying. Because _Henry and shadows and mermaids_ and what if they never see him again? "I think I need to go get some dinner because I don't want my mother to worry about me any more than she already does. But I'll be back and we will work on an actual plan." Which is not at all the whole reason she needs to go get some air but yeah...

Regina just smiles a little. And Emma can see that there's maybe the tiniest flicker of hope there and, against all odds, it makes her the tiniest bit hopeful as well.

 

***

 

The forest is quiet and the sky has no color except for a dull darkness. She is alone.

"Hello."

As she turns, she sees a shadow whose eyes shine bright red.

"My name is Peter Pan. And I am going to kill you."

And with that, the shadow darts towards her, eyes glowing, mouth opening, revealing sharp teeth, and for a minute she feels nothing but pain...

  

***

 

"GAAAAHHH." That's the sound she hears coming out of her own mouth when she wakes up, fighting the arms somehow wrapped around her torso.

It takes a few moments before she realizes where she is and who the arms belong to.

Right. It seems sometime in the midst of all the planning and speculating, she has fallen asleep on Regina's bunk. With Regina.

"Hey, you," she says because _not at all_ _weird_.

Regina doesn't say anything, just disentangles herself from Emma.

"I think I saw Peter Pan. And wow, he's scary." Emma rubs her eyes.

"The dreams will probably become more intense the closer we get to Neverland." Regina's voice is incredibly neutral.

"That's okay. It's not like I haven't had a bad dream before. But thanks for... you know, catching me."

"You fracturing your skull when you hit the floor will not help us find Henry."

And Emma is pretty sure there are spells that could keep her safe from that but she is not about to point that out. Not when there's still a soothing hand on her back and it's kinda nice.

It's a fucked up world. A world in which she, technically, is a Disney princess ( _hah, imagine that, foster home Emma_ ). A world in which she's on a rescue mission, determined to save the child she kind of shares with the Evil Queen (and it doesn't even feel that complicated anymore) from shadows and evil mermaids and a version of Peter Pan who maybe kinda looks like Voldemort.

It's a fucked up world and suddenly she has the silliest thought that actually manifests as a hysterical little laugh. "Just imagine what kind of a mindfuck it would be if we ever took Henry to Disneyland."

Regina just looks at her, with equal levels of frustration and affection in the brown eyes. And she sounds a little bit choked up when she says, "It seems you did somehow manage to hit your head anyway, Miss Swan."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... and that's it, dearies. For now, at least. I guess I wanted to leave the ending pretty open because I'm not totally opposed to the idea of writing a sequel to this story. (But I am also supposed to work on a PhD so time is kinda in limited supply, if you know what I mean...)


End file.
